


Smoking Gun

by ClaraxBarton



Series: Time To Take It All [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, BAMF Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Feels, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kinktober, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, World War Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: Bucky has a nightmare, and Peggy offers comfort.





	Smoking Gun

 

He’d always had nightmares. 

 

As a kid, he’d woken up screaming and, when he was unlucky, his father had forcefully explained to him just how pathetic it was. When he was lucky, his mother got to him first and held him while he cried.

 

Later, his nightmares hadn’t been oblique things like monsters or freezing to death or falling over a cliff or drowning. They’d been real, tangible things, like Steve dying in his arms. Like Steve getting beaten to death when he wasn’t there to save him. 

 

Bucky had always had nightmares.

 

The voices of German scientists talking to him, injecting him with something that felt like lava, strapping him down in a room filled with blue light - those were new nightmares.

 

His own hands reaching up to strangle the life from Steve - those were new nightmares.

 

Waking up in a cold sweat, heart pounding furiously and lungs burning for want of air - that was old.

 

Waking up in a bed, curled around the hard heat of Steve and the cool, soft curves of Peggy - that was new.

 

Slipping out of the bed and locking himself in the washroom - that was old.

 

He sat on the edge of the cracked porcelain tub, face dripping from the cold water he’d splashed on it, and tried to tell himself he was okay.

 

But he wasn’t okay. Hadn’t been, not since Azzano. Hell, not since before then.

 

He could still remember what it had felt like, the first time he shot a man, the first time he saw the spill of red so dark it was nearly black, the way his body had slumped down into the mud. The slap on his back and the congratulations.

 

_ Good thing you’re on our side, taking shots like that _ . 

 

Bucky felt his stomach twist at the memory, and he gripped the tub tighter.

 

Good thing.

 

He’d almost convinced himself that he wasn’t crying when he heard a soft knock on the door.

 

“James?”

 

Peggy. 

 

He’d woken her up.

 

Steve, he didn’t doubt, was still out. The man slept like the dead, always had, even when he was on his sickbed and Bucky couldn’t tell if he would take in another breath or die right there.

 

Bucky scrubbed at his face and then reached over to unlock the door.

 

It was almost pitch-black, in the washroom and in the bedroom. Blackout curtains and a city under curfew would do that.

 

But he could see her silhouette as she stepped into the room, the slope of her hips as she approached him, the curls of her loose hair around her shoulders.

 

Her hand found his face, small and delicate, nails sharp and curving against his jaw.

 

“Sorry I woke you,” he managed, whispering even though he didn’t need to.

 

“Your absence woke me. It’s cold without you in the bed.”

 

It was a lie. Steve put off enough heat to be a damn furnace, these days.

 

“Sorry,” he said again. Because he was, lie or not. 

 

“Come back to us.”

 

Not a question. Never a question, with her. Always an order.

 

Bucky swallowed hard. 

 

Usually, usually, following orders was fine. Especially Peggy’s orders. 

 

He couldn’t trust himself. Not since that first shot, not since Azzano. Maybe not even before then.

 

But Peggy? He could trust Peggy. Usually.

 

Tonight… tonight, the feel of Steve’s throat between his hands was too real, too palpable.

 

“Think I’d better not.”

 

Her nails bit into his skin, the bright flare of pain making him suck in a breath, making the nightmare fade away as she forced him to focus on her.

 

Bucky held himself still, wondering what she would do to him. Hoping she’d do something, because he didn’t trust himself.

 

Peggy’s touch gentled. Her small hand smoothed over his jaw and up to cup his cheek.

 

He felt her move closer, felt her naked body slot between his legs, and her other hand came up to run through his hair and pull his head against her breasts.

 

She could be tender. As fierce as she was, as much as passion burned through her and as many times as Bucky had craved her touch which could border on cruel, Peggy could be tender. Not soft. Never soft. But she knew how to care for the things that were hers.

 

And for some damn reason, she counted Bucky among those things.

 

Hesitant, the feel of flesh crushed between his fingers still too real, Bucky put his arms around her and held her close.

 

“Tell me what you need, darling,” Peggy said into his hair.

 

Bucky had to swallow, had to desperately work up the ability to speak despite his dry mouth and the knot in his throat.

 

_ Leave me to die _ . 

 

He couldn’t say it, not to her, not to anyone. Hell, he could barely stand to think it. But it was there, all the same. 

 

The knowledge that he wasn’t right. That this world wasn’t for him. That  _ they _ weren’t for him.

 

“Tell me,” she said again, an order this time.

 

She wasn’t going to leave him. Not tonight, at least. Because he was hers, and for all of Peggy Carter’s virtues, she was awfully selfish.

 

“Don’t know,” he said, and it wasn’t really a lie. Wasn’t really the truth, either.

 

He needed- he needed to feel something that wasn’t the world spinning away from him, that wasn’t the war or fear or anger or rage or desire. 

 

He needed, maybe, for once, to be in control. To know he  _ could _ be, and it wouldn’t-

 

Wouldn’t result in Steve dying. In him murdering Steve.

 

Bucky let his fingers find the dip of Peggy’s lower back, the graceful curve of her hips and ass, and he traced upward, over the ridges of her spine, until he could lay his hands on her shoulders.

 

“Go back to bed. Wake Steve up.”

 

He’d never, not once, told Peggy Carter what to do. Not in uniform or out of it.

 

He could feel the words hit her, could feel them reverberate through her as she tensed. He could feel the moment she understood, the second she decided to let him.

 

Peggy gave his hair one last tug, and then she stepped away from him. Her footsteps were nearly silent on the floor as she crept back to the bed.

 

“Steve,” he heard her say, voice muffled. She must be pressed close to him.

 

There was a hiss, and then a groan, and Bucky couldn’t help the slight smirk that spread across his lips.

 

Peggy had early on discovered the best way to wake Steve up, and she was fairly merciless in her application of the technique.

 

“Whazzat?” Steve mumbled, sheets rustling as he came awake.

 

“I believe James has something for us,” Peggy said, voice mischievous.

 

Bucky’s smirk faded away.

 

He did. Or at least, he hoped he did.

 

Standing up, he scrubbed his face again and then walked out of the washroom and climbed back into the bed.

 

He crawled over Steve’s legs - so strong now, thick and sturdy - and straddled Steve’s hips.

 

“Sit up,” Bucky instructed, words falling into the darkness.

 

Only the edges of Steve and Peggy were illuminated, gilded by the barely-there moonlight.

 

Steve hesitated.

 

“Up,” Bucky repeated, and this time, Steve listened.

 

He sat up, his movements not at all curtailed by Bucky’s weight, he was that strong now.

 

Peggy was already kneeling on the bed, beside Steve, thigh close enough to Bucky that he could feel the tickle of his skin against hers.

 

He laid one hand on Peggy’s thigh, let his thumb rub circles into her skin, and pressed his other to Steve’s chest.

 

“Kiss me,” he told Peggy, and she moved forward without any of Steve’s hesitation.

 

Her lips were warm, smooth and with just the faintest taste of her waxy lip color still between them. 

 

Bucky opened his mouth, caressed her lips with his tongue until Peggy gave a low little moan of pleasure.

 

He could feel Steve’s skin stretch taunt over his muscles, tension seizing him at that sound. But Bucky held him in place. Or, rather, Steve let Bucky hold him in place.

 

Bucky eased away from Peggy, let his teeth slide over her lips and heard her draw in a ragged breath.

 

“Now it’s your turn,” he told Steve.

 

Steve leaned forward, into Bucky, but Bucky turned his head.

 

“Not me, sweetheart. Her.”

 

Steve changed directions without complaint, hands going up to tangle in Peggy’s hair as he kissed her.

 

Bucky didn’t need light to know what they looked like together, to know how hungry Steve always was for Peggy’s touch, to see the thrill that went through Peggy when their lips met and she was reminded that Steve belonged to her.

 

He had memorized it long ago, the two of them, the way they fit together.

 

The sounds of their kisses filled the air, the press of skin on skin, the sheets being shoved aside as Steve got greedy and tried to pull Peggy closer.

 

Were their positions reversed, Peggy would have put a stop to it, would have controlled them better.

 

But Bucky wasn’t Peggy, and as much as it used to curdle his stomach to watch them kiss, to know how much they wanted and needed each other, it didn’t anymore. Not so much. There was only the faintest taste of bitterness now.

 

Steve reached for him, one hand fumbling in the dark for Bucky, and Bucky let Steve find him, let Steve map the contours of his chest and shoulders and neck, and even let himself lean into the touch as Steve’s thumb rubbed over his mouth.

 

And then Peggy was touching him too, as if they’d agreed to it ahead of time, her sharp nails dragging over Bucky’s thigh and up his hip, and then pulling him closer.

 

Bucky could feel Steve’s cock under him, already half-hard just from Peggy’s mouth on his, and Steve rocked against him with a moan that was nearly lost in Peggy.

 

“Stop,” Bucky said, wanting Steve to sit still, but instead, he heard them pull apart, the sound filthy and wet.

 

He almost apologized to Peggy, but he didn’t.

 

Bucky moved away from Steve, batting away his hand when he tried to stop him.

 

“On your back, Steve,” he decided. 

 

He heard Steve move, saw him shift, and he reached out to bend Steve’s knees so that his ankles were close to his ass.

 

“Where would you like me, James?” Peggy asked, because she might be letting him have the illusion of control, but she wasn’t really content to just let him do whatever he wanted.

 

It was still a question he needed to answer.

 

He’d thought, after listening to them kiss, to let her and Steve fuck, and maybe help Peggy along, maybe tease Steve some.

 

Bucky wasn’t so sure it was what he wanted now, though.

 

“Climb on,” he decided. 

 

“Excellent plan,” Steve laughed as Peggy settled herself onto his thighs.

 

Which pretty much decided what Bucky’s  _ actual _ plan was.

 

“Over his mouth.” Bucky nudged Peggy towards the head of the bed.

 

“And where will you be, darling?” Peggy asked as she did his bidding.

 

“You take care of that end of him, and I’ll take care of this,” Bucky slapped Steve’s ass, hard enough that Steve sucked in a breath and rocked away from the touch.

 

Peggy made a tutting sound.

 

“Careful there, Sergeant. If anyone else learns how keen you are with strategy, you might find yourself involved in more mission planning.”

 

“Yeah, you could-” Steve’s voice trailed off into a muffled  _ unf _ as Peggy sat on his face.

 

Bucky had to grin at that, even though he couldn’t see it, because he could sure as hell picture it. Steve’s eyes going wide and then narrowing in irritation at being cut off. But then, of course, the absolute delight of having Peggy right there, open for him to taste and tease.

 

With the two of them now occupied, Bucky searched the bedside vanity for the jar of slick they kept there, and he brought it back to the bed with him.

 

It wasn’t usually like this, Bucky fucking Steve. Before, he’d always been afraid to hurt Steve. And, after, well…  After, Bucky had been pretty desperate for Steve to hurt  _ him _ .

 

Not tonight, though. Bucky wasn’t after that.

 

Instead, he situated himself between Steve’s legs and slicked up the fingers of his right hand.

 

Steve made a sound, something between a gasp and a groan when Bucky’s cool fingers found his hole. Peggy made an encouraging sound, but Bucky wasn’t sure which of them it was directed at.

 

He felt the tight ring, and he took his time smoothing his index finger around it, coating Steve and teasing the fluttering muscle until he could press the tip of his finger into the tight heat of Steve’s body.

 

Another groan from Steve, a whimper from Peggy, and Bucky eased his finger farther into Steve. 

 

Bucky waited, let Steve adjust to the intrusion for a moment, and then he moved it around, curved it in search of-

 

Steve’s whole body jerked, and Bucky heard Peggy’s palms slap against the wall behind the bed.

 

“I do believe our Steve is enjoying that,” Peggy said, amused and breathless and so clearly enjoying herself that Bucky had to smile.

 

_ Our Steve _ .

 

Maybe he was, for now. Bucky was happy to have a piece of him - any part, really. All too happy to share Steve with a woman as fine as Peggy Carter.

 

“Good,” Bucky said. “Good.”

 

He could do this. He could take care of Steve, same as he always had. He could make sure it was good for him.

 

Bucky added a second finger, and Steve writhed a bit, grinding his ass down on Bucky’s hand. 

 

He took more time, with another finger in Steve, teased at the fleshy knot inside of him and caressed him until moving his fingers in and out of Steve wasn’t quite as impossibly tight, until Steve was just about fucking himself on Bucky’s hand.

 

Another finger had Steve groaning, and even with the sound distorted by Peggy’s body, Bucky could recognize it as frustration. Steve wanted more, the impatient asshole.

 

But he was going to have to wait, this time, until Bucky was ready to give it to him.

 

Peggy reached back, her hand finding Bucky’s arm. Her nails scratched over his arm and shoulder, until she found his face, and then she was tracing his lips and easing one finger between them.

 

Bucky kissed her, laved at her finger, and then sucked on it with a hum of appreciation. 

 

Peggy used Bucky’s mouth to wet her other fingers in turn.

 

“May I?” she asked him.

 

“Yeah.” Bucky was surprised to hear how ragged his own breathing was. “Go ahead.”

 

She reached down between them and wrapped her wet fingers around Steve’s cock, making him moan and arch into her touch before shoving his ass down onto Bucky’s fingers again, as if he didn’t know which way to go, how best to pleasure himself.

 

Bucky used the slick to coat his own cock, stroking himself while he continued to finger Steve.

 

“Don’t let him come before you do,” Bucky instructed Peggy as he pulled his fingers out of Steve.

 

Steve made a sound, a kind of begging, mewling sound that made Bucky smirk and wish he could kiss him.

 

“I won’t,” Peggy assured him. 

 

Bucky lined himself up, rubbed the head of his cock against Steve’s crack to tease the both of them, and then pressed against Steve’s hole until he was sliding in, swallowed up by all that tight, incredible heat.

 

Steve’s body clung to him, drew him in deep, and on either side of Bucky, Steve’s thighs shuddered and his muscles bunched.

 

It was clear that Steve was putting tremendous effort into staying still for Bucky, into lying there pliant so that he could be used however Bucky saw fit.

 

Heady stuff, having Captain America lying there naked, waiting for you to fuck him however you wanted.

 

Bucky thrust in deeply, seating himself fully and making Steve moan.

 

He grabbed Steve’s hips as he pulled out, and used his grip as leverage when he thrust in again.

 

Another moan, and Bucky was practically holding his breath so that he could hear Steve, could hear Peggy and her breathy little sighs.

 

Steve liked it hard, always had, and while it had left Bucky anxious before, now that Steve was bigger than him, giving it to him hard wasn’t difficult or worrisome in the least.

 

Especially not with Peggy jerking him off and keeping half of Steve’s attention focused on her own pleasure.

 

It was damn near easy to pull out and shove back in, to give it to Steve, to push all of his desperation and  _ need _ into the other man’s body.

 

Peggy gasped, made that stuttering little  _ ah-ah-ah _ moan that Bucky loved to hear.

 

“He treat you well?” Bucky asked. “Make you feel good, Peggy?”

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” she breathed. “Oh-  _ oh _ \- yes.”

 

Bucky didn’t let up, imagined Steve wasn’t either, probably sucking and biting at her oversensitive clit as Peggy rode her orgasm, and Bucky figured it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, to treat her like that, so he twisted a little to the side and thrust into Steve hard enough that he grunted.

 

The bed shifted, and Bucky imagined Peggy was moving away from Steve’s mouth.

 

Sure enough, Steve’s next groan came through loud and clear.

 

“ _ Buck _ ,” he hissed.

 

Peggy had stopped stroking Steve, her hand falling away to his hip, fingers almost tangled with Bucky’s where he gripped Steve hard enough that he knew he’d leave bruises.

 

“Make him feel good, Peggy. Give him what he needs.”

 

“You already are, darling,” Peggy argued.

 

“Yeah, Jesus, Buck.  _ Yes _ .” Steve sounded utterly wrecked, sounded like he was halfway to hoarse and nowhere near lucid. “Feels so damn good, Buck. Ungh- just- Please, Buck. Please.”

 

And then Bucky was coming with a gasp of surprise, the darkness whiting out and burning away for a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure that stole his breath and thought and fear and his very existence.

 

It felt like he lost time, felt like he must have soared into all that bright pleasure for minutes, hours. 

 

But then he was in Steve’s arms, tangled up with Peggy, and Steve’s belly was slick against him, and Bucky was warm and welcome and  _ held _ .

 

Bucky sucked in a deep breath, felt his lungs expand and then contract. He took another breath, and then another.

 

He wasn’t whole. He’d never be whole again. 

 

But here, with Steve and Peggy holding him together, all the missing pieces of his soul weren’t quite so exposed.

 

And the nightmares were easier to forget.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober, October 18: Role Reversal. Bucky's in charge. Ish. For a while, anyway.
> 
> So, uhm, sorry for the angst????


End file.
